catered, with music

i put on my

dress shoes, my black suit.

my best

white shirt

and tie.

it's funeral time.

but thankfully

not mine.

we dress up for the dying

out of respect.

it's a formal affair.

catered, with music.

words will be said.

some tears

shed.

some laughter too.

someone will say he was

too young

to die.

someone else will say

that it doesn't look like

him,

lying there quietly.

it will be a long day.

longer nights

for those that loved him.

and then we move on.